A Perfect Fairy Tale
by sky is blue
Summary: Once upon a time there was a girl and a boy. This was the way most fairy tales began. Except maybe, this one wasn’t quite a fairy tale. Because in this one, there might have been a few tears shed here and there...


Disclaimer: J.K.R. owns the characters and setting. I don't own anything, for I am very poor.

A/N: I find that I am in the mood for sad-ish D/G fictions these past few weeks…so…here it is.

I had to get it out of my head. At least leave a review, dear. ^_^

Ginny's POV (kind of)

A Perfect Fairy Tale 

A Draco/Ginny fanfiction by sky is blue

Once upon a time there was a girl and a boy. This was the way most fairy tales began, for most fairy tales were full of happiness and magical things; like true love. 

What could be truer magic than love?

And tears? There would be none.

Except maybe, this one wasn't quite a fairy tale. Because in this one, the boy and the girl wasn't perfect or beautiful beyond belief. 

Because in this one, there _might _have been a few tears shed here and there.

It had started because of chance. Fate, maybe. She had been walking down the halls, ready to round a corner, when she spotted her friend across the corridor waving to her. She waved back, smile plastered on her face, because wouldn't you be happy to see your friend? 

And during the few seconds that she stopped to say hello to her dear friend, a figure walked past her own path. 

But she didn't think much of it then.

She continued to walk, rounding the corner as she was going to, and of course, abruptly ran into a boy.

His cool eyes stared down at her condescendingly, and though she didn't like it, she did admit that she was cowering under his gaze. 

Wasn't he scrutinizing her, the way his eyes roamed all over her body almost speculatively? 

Oh, but he was the prince, and how handsome he was…

" Hello." He murmured, softly. She took a step forward, eyes wide.

" Hello." 

And that had been the start of this fairy tale. But you see, it was all fate and games that life liked to play, because if only she hadn't taken a few seconds to wave hello to her friend, she would have run into someone else, and not the silver-eyed boy. 

But ever since that start, when they realized that they didn't quite mind each other's presence, they began finding excuses to see each other. Silly excuses that didn't really make sense. 

Anyone else would have told them that they were in _love_ but not only were the both of them too stubborn and stupid to see it, no one in society would point it out because—how could _they_ ever fall in love? 

So it wasn't until one night, when they were both outside under the willow tree coincidentally, that they realized that maybe they did love each other. 

She had noticed that he was looking more beautiful than anyone she had ever seen, and he had noticed how she looked like a goddess. 

A sweet kiss was shared. 

And as most fairy tales go, they couldn't explain what the kiss felt like because it was too wonderful and too ineffable. They couldn't say because if there was such a thing as true magic, this was it. 

And true magic was always confusing. 

But the kiss left their hearts fluttering crazily until their hand went over their hearts to steady it, and they looked at each other with nothing but pure love in their eyes, overwhelmed with this emotion for each other. 

_True love, true love, true love. _

And wouldn't it be wonderful to end this story here, where everything was perfect? 

Without a flaw.

Yes, it would be the perfect fairy tale ending.

But that was _not_ how it ended. 

No. It was called truth, and truth was a cruel and stubborn thing that refused to budge no matter what. 

In fact the end was quite tragic.

All their lives they had been told that they were different; and indeed, they were. But it wasn't until this part of the fairy tale that they realized how true this was. 

He wasn't the perfect prince he should have been because he was too selfish and too much like his father. When she told him this, he would turn his angry eyes on her, and a slap would resonate into the night. Often times he scared her and when she cried he would sigh in exasperation and tell her to stop being weak.

She wasn't the graceful princess she was supposed to be. She worried too much and truth be told, sometimes he wished she would stop crying for she tended to do a lot of that—and she was not the strong woman he wished her to be.

Fights, bickering.

It became like this until it was all they did. It was like so, until the bitter hate consumed them, leaving no room for the blossoming, passionate love they had once shared. The shouts filled their lives until nothing could heal the wounds they caused, nothing could make things better.

And those silly fights would only end if one of them apologized in defeat; never in words, but with a chaste kiss. 

And everything had to be hidden. 

Everything. For in this tale, the others not involved in the love story did not approve of their courting at all, and if His father found out, he would kill his son and the girl, instead of being the kind and understanding king he was supposed to be, and if Her brothers found out, he would kill the beautiful, silver-eyed boy.

But indeed, the silver-eyed boy was selfish. 

Because there was this _one_ day—not too warm, not too cold, and not especially special, when they were sitting under the willow tree yet again, he told her that It was over. 

The fairy tale.

He dabbed the quill in the ink and finished it with the words _The End_, oh, and weren't those words so permanent.

He said this coldly and without emotion, and the only thing she could think about was that maybe, just maybe he was crying inside, and maybe the evil king had threatened to kill her if he did not leave—but he seemed so distant and ruthless, that she didn't really think he was _crying at all. _

He told her he was leaving the kingdom and joining his father, the King, because he needed to be a good son.

And he walked away.

It started to rain, and the princess's dress got soaked—she was so cold now, freezing, and she stood there for so long that soon, she couldn't feel the cold any more—she couldn't feel anything!

Was her heart still beating? 

She listened, but heard nothing, and so she pretended that the soft _pitter-patter_ of the rain was her heart's rhythm.

And many days afterwards, she saw him again, and he hadn't left. He was always there, and too far for her to reach.

If this tale had been even remotely a fairy tale, the silver-eyed boy should have felt immense regret, and the girl should have been heart-broken beyond belief, until she could take it no longer and ran back to him for…

Forgiveness?

But it wasn't so. They walked past each other without a second glance.

Though deep inside, there may have been love even now, smoldered by pride. 

And I'd like to tell you that in the end, they shared another sweet kiss and everything was alright

But truth. 

Truth.

Truth tore everything apart.

_Would it be okay if I lied, just this once?_

So maybe this isn't a fairy tale.

I've heard that fairy tales were supposed to be perfect.

Without a flaw.


End file.
